


It’s for Your Own Good

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [250]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Evil Gerard Argent, Evil Kate Argent, F/M, Gerard Argent is Stiles Stilinski's Father, Hunter Stiles Stilinski, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mention Allison Argent, Mentioned Chris Argent - Freeform, Mentioned Kate Argent, Mentioned Victoria Argent, Sheriff Stilinski is Stiles Stilinski's Uncle, Sick Gerard Argent, Stiles Stilinski is an Argent, Warning: Gerard Argent, Warning: Kate Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 13:56:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20816276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: Having a soulmate was rare, and it was considered an honour and a blessing to be marked with the name of your soulmate, but the moment Stiles saw the name of his soulmate that circled the small triskelion that had appeared minutes after the name itself had.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my den of gloom and doom, a place where most stories come to die while others are forever kept and treasured. Would you wish to hear one of these stories? One doomed to be forever lost, or one that will sit safe and sound till the end of times upon these shelves? 
> 
> Now, all you lovely souls that are familiar with this little series, please make your merry way to A Change while the rest of you stay with me, because there are a few things you need to know about this series. Alrighty, so, this series is a bunch of tiny payments for my friends, and they have the power to make a couple of wishes about what their story will be. Each story is written in 15minutes, hence the name of this series, and due to the lack of proper time there will be a great deal of mistakes and bad storytelling. Now, if you my dear can’t handle bad grammar and a lot of typos, then please skip my story, and just to be safe skip all of my stories. However, if you feel brave and capable of handling bad writing, then you are welcome to continue down to A Change. 
> 
> A CHANGE has come to play in this round of 15Minutes, and that change is a theme, and this time the theme is Stiles is an Argent, but not to worry ALittlePinkShipExploring still had the power to make a few wishes about her story such as wanting a soulmate universe, but to Stiles finding out that his soulmate is Derek Hale is pretty much a disaster, she also wanted there to be talk about none-con and abuse or torture.  
ALittlePinkShipExploring also wanted there to be a mention of an original character that is nice to Stiles, and that’s all she gave me. 
> 
> Greetings my fellow lunatics, I'm trying to finish posting the last few stories of the 15Minutes August round, but my cat is driving me crazy.

Armed with a fake ID, his stomach burning with too much alcohol and nerves Stiles made his way into the possibly shadiest of establishments in all of California. The tattoo parlour looked unclean, dirtier than his own room was ever aloud to be, the stench of stale trash and beer was ripe in the air as was sweat and cigarette smoke. There was no doubt at all that if Stiles’ fear of his father and sister finding out about the name and symbol decorating the skin above his frantically beating heart, then he would’ve turned around sharply the moment he’d opened the door to the questionable establishment, but Stiles feared his sister and father more than he did the prospect of catching hepatitis and so he walked on in with an air of determination.

`Stilinski? ´ the heavily-tattooed version of Ron Perlman asks him rather gruffly the moment the older-male lumbered forth from behind the beaded curtain that separated the front of the shop from the back.

Stiles nods in response, feeling suddenly unable to speak. There’s something about this stranger that reminds him of his father, and that’s enough to make him feel like he should try and be as invisible as possible. 

`Cover-up, right? ´ the man asks while setting down his bottle of beer, and again Stiles just nods in response.

`Alright then, kid. ´ R.P says then while he starts to pick bottles and jars out of one of the cupboards, `Let’s get started. ´

Again, Stiles just nods, undressing the upper-half of his body, shivering slightly once the layer of clothing that had covered one half of his body was gone.

Making his way to over to what looked padded table, one which looked like the massaging table that June brought with her when she came over to deal with his dad’s shoulder and back pains, although this one looked more like it had been dragged out of a dumpster, then again most of the furnishing in the peculiar establishment looked like they’d been rescued from a landfill or from a street corner.

Stiles isn’t entirely surprised to find that R.P didn’t even ask to see his ID, or that he didn’t even bat an eye at his bruises and cuts, then again men like R.P didn’t have room to stick his nose into things that had nothing to do with him.

`This is going to hurt, kid. ´ R.P warns him as he starts to strap Stiles down to the table, and Stiles had been prepared for this since R.P had told him on the phone what to expect, and yet for a moment he feels a surge of panic; he also knows that even if he does start panicking this man isn’t going to stop what he is doing, since the deal is that R.P doesn’t get paid if the cover-up hasn’t been done.

Stiles does his best to breathe through his panic, playing the thought of what was going to happen and what was not going to happen over and over again in his head.

Stiles is about 90% certain that R.P wouldn’t do anything to him, that the man wouldn’t be slipping a needle into him and drugging him with something that would leave him suffering from terrible hallucinations, there wouldn’t be a sensation of spiders or ants crawling around beneath his skin or worms wriggling inside his organs tonight, and most likely Stiles wouldn’t wake-up feeling like something terrible had been done to him when he was unconscious or helpless.

Replaying the fact that this wasn’t a training session, or a punishment, Stiles allows R.P to gag him, all the while the older man explaining softly that the procedure would hurt a lot and so a gag was necessary for the both of them.

Stiles does his best to focus on his breathing as R.P starts to clean the area that would soon suffer a new form of abuse, he’s not comfortable being touch even on his best days and so it takes everything in him not to flinch at being touched by this stranger.

`This is going to burn, kid. ´ the man towering over him warns before using a small brush to cover the soulmark with a liquid that reeks of harsh chemicals, and with how Stiles’ eyes begin to water even before the burning sensation on his chest starts it’s pretty clear this is a cocktail of some really chemicals; Stiles swears he can feel the liquid painted over his soulmark seeping deep into his body, burning through muscles, bones and possibly even organs.

Stiles wouldn’t really mind if the liquid burned a whole straight through his heart or lunges, even if that meant that R.P would have to dump his dead body at the side of the highway or in a dumpster. Stiles didn’t fear death nearly as much as he feared his father and sister. 

The smell of skin burning is a familiar smell to him, and so it doesn’t bother him as much as it probably should, and so Stiles just lays there focusing on his breathing and trying to remind himself why he has to do this. He has to cover his soulmark before Kate or his dad learn he has a soulmark, and that his soulmate belongs to the Hale-pack and Derek Hale did belong to the Hale-pack because Stiles had done his goddamn research the moment his mark had appeared.

The flickering hope that had sat stubbornly behind the wall of dread, had planted seeds of a possible better life and happier times inside of Stiles’ head, but he’d crushed that little bug the moment it was confirmed his soulmate was the son of Alpha Talia Hale.

Gerard would rather kill Stiles than allow one of his children to be in a relationship with a werewolf, or anyone with werewolf blood running in their family-tree, or worse Stiles might be used to take down a perfectly peaceful pack from the inside, or Stiles would be used to convince his soulmate to betray his own pack and family; he’s heard about certain Russian hunter families use this tactic in the past, and the trend was growing around the world, and it just didn’t sit right with Stiles to use the weakness of a soulmate-bond in such a way, it was in his opinion the tactics of dishonourable men.

It feels like an hour has passed before R.P stops with the paintbrush, but by the clocks on the walls it’s pretty clear it’s only been ten-minutes, Stiles feels a little bit dizzy from breathing in the toxic fumes and there’s a slight throbbing headache starting to make itself known too.

`Blink twice if you need a break, kid. ´ R.P tells him, pale-blue eyes locked in on him, and while Stiles would like a breather, he has to back home before his dad does and so Stiles doesn’t blink and R.P doesn’t question his decision. R.P moves a small table closer, the sound of glass and metal loud in Stiles ears, and Stiles closes his eyes in preparation for what is to come.

`Alright, kid, this is really going to hurt. ´ R.P warns him as the not so gentle hum starts, a mechanical hum that causes Stiles’ body to tense, he knows what’s coming and he feels incredibly uneasy about having his chest covered in a large tattoo.

It’s the smell that hits him first, his skin still burning from the chemical paintjob from before, and Stiles is pretty sure that the ink used in normal tattoos don’t smell like old Tom’s moonshine mixed with ginger and eucalyptus, there’s even a hint of something that reminds him of burned wolfsbane and rock salt.

The pain, the agony, starts to increase in volume not long after the first thin line of colour has been battered into his skin, and although Stiles had been aware that the cover-up would be an agony far worse than what getting a normal tattoo ever would, and Stiles is only able to withstand it gracefully for about five-minutes before he’s crying, in ten-minutes he’s screaming behind the gag and fighting the binds holding him down, but R.P continues on like the professional he is.

Stiles isn’t sure how much time has passed when his veins feel like they are full of liquid-fire, he doesn’t know how long R.P has been working on covering the soulmark when the pressure in his skull becomes too much, when the feeling of his insides being crushed sends him spiralling into darkness.

Sweet merciful darkness where nothing can hurt him.

When Stiles comes too, he startles awake and looks immediately up at one of the clocks on the walls, he breathes out a shaky breath that he’s still able to make it home before he can get into too much trouble.

Stiles is surprised to find himself no longer bound to the table that he can see from where he lays, and his shirt and hoodie are still neatly folded on the small chair he’d left them on, Stiles also finds himself on an old couch that has a musty sort of smell to it. There’s a heavy old blanket crumpled over his legs, and it takes a moment to realize R.P had moved him over to the couch and went as far as give Stiles a pillow and a blanket.

`Feeling like shit, kid? ´ R.P asks from where he sits in a large armchair, a book in one hand and in the other a The Muppets mug.

Stiles does feel awful, and he doesn’t feel like pretending like he’s not feeling dreadful.

`Worse than shit. ´ Stiles admits, and it’s not a lie, he feels way worse than he would after drinking too much or going through one of Kate’s training sessions. Everything just hurts, he feels sick and oddly disjointed, and he’s so fucking cold to the bone that he thinks nothing will ever make him feel warm again.

`Sounds about right. ´ R.P smirks from behind his mug, taking a long sip before setting the mug down and his book down on the same small table he’d used to house his instruments of torture. With a loud groan and a sigh, R.P rises to his feet, his movements are slow and stiff.

`You’ll feel like that for a few days, kid. ´ R.P tells him with a surprising degree of sympathy while handing Stiles his discarded clothes, and Stiles gladly gets dress, hissing in pain as the fabric moves and then rests against the gauzes covering a tattoo he hasn’t even seen yet.

Closing his eyes, Stiles wishes for at least the splitting headache or rather the alien inside his skull to settle down. There’s an increasing sense of nausea in him, one that just will not yield to his breathing exercise.

`Here. Drink this. ´ R.P says suddenly form right in-front of where Stiles sits with his head between his legs, and it startles Stiles upright once more which only makes the world spin.

It takes a minute for the world to stop spinning and this allowing Stiles to blink at the dainty looking teacup that the tattooed man was holding.

`It will make you feel less drained. ´ R.P tells him, and for some strange reason Stiles doesn’t feel all that suspicious about drinking something R.P is encouraging him to drink.

`I promise you, tt smells as horrid as it tastes, but it will do the trick. ´ R.P informs him and Stiles appreciates the honesty of this stranger, the guy has been honest with him since their first phone call. 

Slowly and feeling a great deal shaky, Stiles takes the offered teacup noticing only then just how numb and cold his hands feel.

`Drink it down quickly. ´ R.P instructs him rather seriously, `No little sips. Just one great big gulp, kid. That’s the best way to do it. ´

And by god the greenish-brown liquid had a truly unpleasant stench to it, like burned hair and leather, but also spoiled fish and fish-oil, with a hint of rotten fruit mixed with something Stiles just can’t pin-point without gagging.

`Come on. Drink it, kid. ´ orders while Stiles hesitates for a moment, before then promising that Stiles would feel better once he’d drank the absolutely disgusting smelling liquid.

Stiles takes the cup like some Victorian lady, sticking his pinkie out in a form of fuck you, and then goes for it.

The drink defiantly tastes worse than it smelled, and it’s thick and heavy no less, and Stiles is about to spit it all out when R.P covers his nose and mouth with his giant and while pushing Stiles down onto the couch with the rest of his bulk, pinning Stiles’ struggling body down until eventually Stiles has to swallow the burning liquid.

Stiles hears faintly the man say he’s sorry, but also explaining that what he did was for Stiles own good, the words sparking an anger within Stiles because every goddamn time he was made to hurt those were the words Kate or his dad used.

_`I’m sorry son, it’s for your own good. ´_

_`I’m sorry, baby-bro, it’s for your own good. ´_

_`I’m sorry, son, this is for your own good. ´_

_`I’m sorry, baby brother, but this is for your own good. ´ _

`Keep it down. ´ the tattooed man tells him as he slowly gets off of him, and Stiles glares through his tears at the man, `Just so you know, I’ll make you drink it again if you don’t keep it down. ´ R.P goes on to say, and to Stiles the threat feels real enough and so Stiles does his best to try and not give in to the need to vomit the disgusting sludge out of him.

`There you go. ´ the man says softly once Stiles is sitting once more with his head between his legs, the large and heavy hand rubbing Stiles back and Stiles hates the fact that he never wants the man to stop rubbing his stiff and sore back.

`There you go. Keep it down, kid, keep it down. ´ R.P’s voice is soft and gentle, but also encouraging and it reminds Stiles of his brother, and god he’s been missing Chris a lot lately but he’s also aware of why Chris and Victoria want to distance themselves from Stiles and Gerard and Kate. Chris and Victoria just want to give their daughter a chance to be as normal as possible, to have the life they’d been denied, and Stiles gets it, he fucking gets it, if Stiles ever had a child of his own and gods forbid he ever had one, he’d want to give the same privilege to his child too; however, Stiles is still ripe with bitter anger and jealousy too, because Allison gets everything from Chris’ protection and care to living a pain-free life.

Stiles just wants a day or two without pain, without fear, but that’s not in his cards because he is expected to be Allison’s second and right-hand, his job will be to make sure she lives on to have plenty of good little Argents with whatever weakling she’ll most likely will marry; after all, Chris and Victoria were against arranging a marriage for their precious daughter, something which still infuriated Gerard.

` What the fuck was that stuff? ´ Stiles croaks eventually, which seems to be the greenlight for R.P to leave him be, and so the man gathers up the discarded cup and Stiles finds himself missing the gentle comforting touch of the man.

`Does it really matter? You do feel a bit less dead, don’t you? ´ the man simply replies while moving over to the small sink stuck in the corner of the room, and the guy has a point since Stiles does feel a bit less like laying back down and dying. His hands no longer feel cold or numb, and the rest of him feels a little bit less cold too, and the pains he’d felt long before entering the shop feel drugged down and less vibrant. 

R.P leaves the cup in the sink and moves over to the small fridge beneath a small desk, grabbing a can of soda and throws it to Stiles who does catch it, he knows how to catch things without dropping them even while he’s nearly blinded with pain; Kate was a creative teacher and an effective one too, forcing him to be better, to be accurate and never to fumble or drop things.

`Get some sugar in you. ´ the man tells him before asking, `You aren’t a vegan, are you? ´

Stiles shakes his head, struggling a bit with bringing the can of Coke up to his unusually dry lips, his arms feel a little bit off still, but in a good way like after a night of excellent sleep.

`Good. ´ R.P says, grabbing a sandwich that sat inside the small fridge, and begins to unwrap it before handing it over to Stiles.

`It’s turkey. ´ R.P tells him as Stiles hesitantly takes the sandwich, `You’re not leaving before you’ve finished this and your soda, ´ and Stiles can tell they guy means it, `and if you want another soda, help yourself. ´ and with that R.P walked out of the room, leaving Stiles feeling confused over the care this stranger was showing him. 

Gerard hadn’t shown even a little bit of care whenever he or Kate went too far, if anything Gerard would blame Stiles for it, declaring he had to be punished some more for being so weak; sure, the punishment was usually after nearly dying or when his body was too broken for Stiles to walk even a few steps without collapsing, to be locked inside the closet for a few days, so it wasn’t all that bad.

Stiles drinks his soda and eats his sandwich, and he does all of it slowly in fear of possibly making himself sick if he wasn’t careful, and so by the time he’s finished eating and drinking R.P appears once more and hands him a small plastic bag.

`You’ll need to put the ointment on the tattoos twice a day, in the morning and before bed, it will burn and if it does that then all is good, if not, then we might have a problem. Keep the tattoos covered-up for the next week, don’t let the marks get wet and no sunlight either, kid. ´ Stiles listens intently to the instructions, and nods his head dutifully as the man speaks.

`Now, you’ll probably get a fever, ´ R.P warns him, ` But unless it lasts for more than a couple of days, then I wouldn’t worry. Your body is going to try and fight the change, so it’s normal. ´

Taking his seat in the armchair he’d occupied while Stiles woke-up, R.P pins Stiles with his pale eyes and there’s a degree of unexpected concern there that Stiles doesn’t know what to make of.

`Normal people suffer for a couple of days, feeling a bit off and going off on friends and family. Had a lady who called me in near hysterics because she’d been screaming at her dog for absolutely nothing. However, since your something special, there’s no telling how long you’ll be feeling off. ´

`Special? ´ Stiles snorts then, `I’m nothing special. ´

`Oh come on. ´ R.P laughs loudly in a way that Stiles would imagine Rubeus Hagrid’s laugh to be.

`Don’t try and fool this old goat, ´ R.P continues an all-knowing smirk on his face, `I know your not just some kid, not when your mark put up such a fight. You should’ve told me you’re something else, not a were – no, but something. ´

`I’m nothing. ´ Stiles tells the man honestly, and something about the way Stiles says it or possibly it’s something on his face, but suddenly R.P looks almost startled but schools his features soon enough into something achingly kind.

`Alright, kid. Alright. Maybe I’m wrong, then again, maybe I’m not. ´ the man says softly, `just, take care of yourself kid. And, whatever your situation is right now, try and get out of it before it gets you killed. ´

`I’m fine, There’s nothing…´ Stiles starts but R.P huffs out a breath that quiets him.

`You can sing that song all you want, boy, but you’re not fooling me. My dad was right old bastard, abusive fucker, so, I know a bit about shit like the bruises on your body, kid. So, listen to me, kid, you get yourself away from whoever it is that’s beating. Fuck, if you need a place to stay until you sort your life out, I’ve got a spare room in the back you can stay in. ´

Thanks, but I’m fine. ´ Stiles says, his voice a little bit defensive but the old-man doesn’t seem to mind it one bit.

`Just some advice. Just an offer. ´ R.P says in a response while reluctantly moving over to unlock the front-door, letting in the cooling air of the evening.

`Keep your money, kid. ´ R.P says the moment Stiles digs out the wad of cash he’d brought with him, it had sat heavy in the pocket of his hoodie, `you need that money more than I do, keep it because once you finally see the light you’ll need it. ´

`I don’t need your charity. ´ Stiles insists, trying to hand the money over to R.P who continued to refuse to take the money he’d earned.

`Not charity, kid. If I was charitable, then I’d be giving you some money, which I’m not. ´R.P said with a degree of frustration, ` Now get out, kid. I’ve got my own kids to take care of. ´ Without a word of goodbye or good luck, Stiles was pushed out the door, causing Stiles to stumble a few steps and nearly dropping the plastic bag he’d been holding, and before Stiles had a chance to turn around and insist that the man should take the money Stiles owed him the door was already locked behind him. 


	2. Where Have You Been?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Oh, no, don't be afraid. I'm not all that dangerous, not usually. I'm just here to share a story or two, nothing more than that. 
> 
> So, my lunatic friend ReadingIsLikeWellDry, wanted another chapter for this one, with a look into Stiles relationship with Gerard and the rest of his family. 
> 
> If I'm honest, I doubt I'm actually going to manage to post this chapter, since I've screwed posting the first-one more than once.

`Mieczyslaw. ´

Stiles’ blood runs cold the moment he hears his father call out to him from his private study. He’d really hoped and thought he would make it home before his dad came home, and thinking and hoping usually didn’t work for Stiles when it came to his father or his sister.

Breathing in a shaky breath, Stiles heads straight to his father’s study. Knowing that his best form of action when in trouble was facing his father and the sense of disappointment he’d planted in the old-mans heart, was simply to face it head on and immediately instead of trying to avoid it for as long as possible, causes Stiles make his way to the study he wasn’t allowed to enter without permission.

`Where have you been, son? ´ his father asks him the second Stiles appears in the doorway of the forbidden room, a room that Stiles would’ve loved to have been allowed to explore, there were so many books there that he wasn’t allowed to read and items he wasn’t permitted to touch since his father didn’t trust him.

Stiles comes to a pause by the entrance, breathing in the scent of old books with yellow pages and fading ink, willing his nerves to settle the damn down. Stiles waits for permission to step inside the room, he waits quietly and respectfully while watching with an uneasy heart as Gerard takes an almost greedy sip from his large glass of whiskey.

`At the library, sir. ´ Stiles answers without pause, his answer might not be the whole truth, it might at best be a half-truth. Stiles had only dropped by the library before heading home, returning books and replacing them with a couple of the books that Miles recommended for him.

Stiles really liked Miles who never let his cerebral palsy get in his way when it came to working at the library or having Saturday and Monday story time at the library, not to mention throwing every Sunday a Dungeons and Dragons get together at the library. Stiles admired the way Miles didn’t let shit get him down and the way he seemed to know everyone that was a regular at the library, and if you were a new face Miles would still force his friendliness on you.

`Library? ´ Gerard questions him, voice suspicious and eyes searching, and Stiles worries genuinely that he’s been caught and is just about to confess everything, but then his father gestures for him to step inside his private study and all traces of suspicion washed away.

Swallowing the lump of panic down, Stiles approaches his father. He stops by the familiar set of chairs place across the old desk behind which his father sat. With bone deep familiarity Stiles sets his bookbag down on one of the chairs, and begins to brings forth the books he hoped he would be allowed to enjoy. Anxiously Stiles hands one book after another in the waiting hands of his father, all the while hoping he wouldn’t have to take each of them back come morning.

`You’re a little bookworm aren’t you, son. ´ Gerard remarks unkindly while Stiles stands silently in waiting for his father to finish judging whether or not these books were the sort that Stiles was allowed to read.

_There’s nothing else to do around here than read_, Stiles thought bitterly, but answered instead, ` Yes, sir. ´

`Books are all well and good, son. ´ his father says before handing one of the three books back to him, and Stiles nearly thanks his father for allowing him to have these books of history for a little while, `but never forget what is expected off of you. Never forget your duty to your family. ´

`Never, sir. ´ Stiles responds with expected seriousness, and how could he_ ever_ forget when his duty and future was beaten into his skin and snapped into his bones, how would he ever forget it when it had been drilled into him before he could read or write.

`Good. You may read your books. ´ his father informs him, and Stiles eagerly gathers his books, but before he’s got them all safely tucked inside his bag, his father suddenly says, `You’ll have a week to finish reading your books. ´

Stiles honestly doesn’t know what to think of this statement, or how to react to it and this is not a situation he likes to be in.

`I will for a time, ´ his father goes on to say with a peculiar grimness that Stiles can’t understand, ` be too busy to take care of you. ´

Stiles’ blood freezes with dread in his veins, and he’s so close to getting a panic attack just from the thought that he would be stuck with Kate, or that his sister would drag him off to somewhere for some special training. Kate never allowed him a second of peace, a moment without her looming presence and demands, and Stiles had no room to complain about anything she did to him since Kate was Gerard’s favourite; criticising Kate in anyway, complaining about her would only result in further pain and humiliation. 

` Unfortunately, ´ Gerard sighs, the air of disappointment so thick that Stiles can taste it in the air, ` I can’t ask Kate to take look after you. ´ Stiles doesn’t miss the glare his father shoots at him even while he’s in the middle of feeling positively lightheaded at the prospect of not being stuck with Kate, Stiles can feel the way the heavy sense of dread that had crashed in on him when he’d thought he’d get stuck with his sister.

`Your sister has enough on her plate since you aren’t of much use to our family, Mieczyslaw. ´

`I’m sorry, sir. ´ Stiles genuinely apologizes, lowering his head in a display of the shame.

Stiles is perfectly aware that he is a failure, after all with how many years his father and sister had been training him to be a hunter, he really should’ve been already shown some progress, enough at least to be useful.

`You should be. ´ Gerard responded harshly, taking an almost angry sip from his glass of whiskey.

`You are too much like your mother, Mieczyslaw. ´ his father tells him and not for the first-time there’s a an almost pungent sense of revulsion there that stings, `You are too much like a Stilinski, and not enough of an Argent not to bring shame upon your family. ´ this too is nothing new, Stiles had heard this hundred-times before, and yet it always hits him harder than a punch in the gut ever could.

`You are weak, ´ Gerard hisses between angry sips of whiskey, and Stiles nods in agreement because his father was right about him being weak in not only body but mind too.

` I am ashamed to call you my son. ´ his fathers words cut deep, and it takes everything in Stiles not to crumble at the weight of the words spoken.

With a heavy sigh, one full of frustration and disappointment, his father continues, ` but you _are_ my son, and you _are _my burden, my responsibility, ´ Stiles doesn’t nod or say anything here, mostly because he doesn’t know what the right response should be, he never does, and so he stays silent and wallows in his shame.

`And so, ´ Gerard says before downing the last of the dark amber liquid, slamming the glass hard on the desk once empty startling Stiles enough to cause him to flinch, ` I _will_ – I _will_ see to it that you will eventually prove yourself worthy to be called an Argent, or you will die trying to become worthy of the name of Argent, is that clear? ´

` Yes. And thank you, sir, for not giving-up on me. ´ Stiles answers quickly, while feeling pretty sure that he would never prove himself worthy of the name of Argent, and that he would eventually die for good during a training session.

`As I said, ´ Gerard starts after the brief pause, during which he’d made sure to turn the empty glass of whiskey into one that was close to overflowing whiskey, not the cheap sort of whiskey either since Gerard only ever drank the expensive stuff be it wine or whiskey.

`I will, for a little while, be unable to look after you, Mieczyslaw, ´ here Stiles nodded in understanding, `and I can’t ask Kate to deal with you either, and so I’ve been forced to beg your brother to take you in. ´

Stiles can hardly breathe as his heart swelled with a sense of excitement, so much so that he felt a sharp pain in his chest.

Although Stiles did feel bad about Chris and Victoria being forced to take him in, he was just selfish enough to still be overjoyed at the prospect of escaping his father and sister.

`Now, while I would’ve liked to have sent you over to them tonight, to get you out of my hair, ´ and yes, once again the words of his father sting, but Stiles can endure the sting with the knowledge he would possibly spend a few days bruise free.

`However, your brother insisted we wait a week. It seems he and Victoria think you will only be in the way during the move. ´

Stiles had completely forgotten that Chris and Victoria were in the middle of moving, and moving no less to Hale territory which had seemed strange to Stiles, but he’d never had the courage to question Chris’ and Victoria’s decision; and frankly, Stiles had feared Chris would’ve told him that the move had something to do with him.

`So, in a weeks-time I will be putting you on a bus. I will be expecting you to behave, and obey your brother and Victoria. ´ Gerard told him, his voice hard and demanding, and Stiles would do his absolute best to not to disappoint his father further.

`I will, sir. ´ Stiles promises, and he will behave and do his absolute best not to bring further shame upon his father and family.

Pointing an angry finger at him, his father goes on to say with a voice sharp and unforgiving, `If I find you’ve grown lazy and weaker during your stay with your brother and his family, then you will pay for your failures, Mieczyslaw. ´ Although Stiles has no intentions of going soft or lazy, Gerard’s words plant a seed of fear in him that will ensure he will not repeat past mistakes, Stiles might have a weak mind and body but he learned well when his body was made to suffer, and suffer it had.

`You will be attending Beacon Hills High School with Allison, ´ his father tells him, and Stiles is glad to learn he would be going to high school, since Kate had been trying to talk his dad out of allowing him to finish his education. Kate believed firmly Stiles had no need of high school or college education, after all he was going to be part of the family business.

`I expect you to look after Allison, to protect her. ´ Gerard orders rather than tells, his eyes hard and Stiles knows what will happen to him if he fails to keep Allison safe.

`Of course, sir. ´ Stiles responds immediately, not only did he know how important Allison was for the future of their family. Allison was also his niece and the apple of his brother’s eye, and so he would die trying to keep her safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a short chapter, but I just struggled forming my thoughts into words and then I made the mistake of looking at the keys of my laptop and I lost my ability to type… there was a bug on my finger, and I looked down and well that was enough to screw me over. I'm not a happy camper at the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty, so a few explanations, again. I struggled to get this story started, just couldn’t get an idea in my head all that easily, but the idea that I did get in my head is that Stiles is Gerard Argents son, but his mom wasn’t Kate’s and Chris’ mother and so that makes him Kate’s and Chris’ half-brother. Stiles mom died when Stiles was a couple of years old, so he doesn’t really remember her since once she was gone both Gerard and Kate made sure to try and remove any trace of her in his or their life; still, Stiles used her maiden-name at the tattoo parlour, not because he’s close to his uncle, because he isn’t. 
> 
> Stiles’ mother didn’t know about the whole hunter thing, not until she gave Gerard another son which forced the man to tell her about the future set for their son, and at first she was alright with it but once she realized how training her son to be a hunter meant he had to be broken and rebuilt she began to fight her husband on this; in the end she killed herself, or did she? 
> 
> Sheriff Stilinski is Stiles uncle, Stiles mom was the Sheriff’s little sister and they had a very rocky relationship since the Sheriff had always been an over-protective big brother after their father died when they were still young, and she’d resented his way of trying to control (which he didn’t) her and her life, and when the Sheriff made it clear he didn’t trust Gerard, a man that was old-enough to be their father, she cut him out of her life (with Gerard’s support, of course). She didn’t even tell her brother that she was pregnant or that he was an uncle when her son was born; the Sheriff didn’t even find out that his sister was dead until months-later, and that was also the moment he learned he had a nephew. 
> 
> After he found out he had a nephew and with the full-support of his own wife, Sheriff Stilinski did try and get in-touch with his nephew, but there was this massive Gerard and Kate and lawyers shaped wall between him and his nephew. Any gifts or cards the Sheriff sent his nephew were destroyed or gifted away by Kate or her father. 
> 
> Oh, and Kate is a horrible sister, like she gets kicks out of torturing her little brother. Chris, however, isn’t as horrible and does insist Stiles comes over to stay the holidays or summers with him and Victoria and Allison, and because he genuinely does care for his little brother he’s been trying to convince Gerard to let him and Victoria look after the boy more since Gerard and Kate have so much else on their plates. Chris loves his little brother, even if he hadn’t been too thrilled with his dad having a kid at the ripe old age that he did, and had a feeling that his “Step-mom” wasn’t all there either. I’d imagine that once Chris sees the proof of the hell his brother has been living through, he’d probably lose his shit. Oh, and Victoria isn’t horrible towards Stiles, and when he’s staying with them, she treats him almost like she does her daughter. 
> 
> Now Kate hasn’t had a chance to burn the Hale’s to the ground, since she took her job of training her little brother more seriously than going after the Hale’s, but that doesn’t say that’s not a plan inside her wicked little head. 
> 
> Derek was mighty surprised when he woke-up one morning to find a soulmark on his skin, happy and surprised for sure, even if the fact that his soulmate is an Argent does leave him feeling rather worried about how his family and pack will react to this fact, but they prefer to try and see the positive in having an Argent brought into the family since it would surely give them some form of protection having a member of one of the most powerful hunter families in their own family. 
> 
> Sheriff Stilinski and his wife adopted Erica and Isaac since they couldn’t have kids of their own, and Isaac and Erica are the same age as Stiles and Allison; Scott is Isaac’s best friend and Erica is friends with Derek’s little sister Cora. 
> 
> Oh, and Gerard’s got chancer which is the reason he’s decided after a long conversation with Chris to send Stiles to liv with Chris and Victoria, at least for a little while since Kate will take on the jobs Gerard can’t do.
> 
> This is like my 3rd time trying to post this one, I keep fucking it up with posting chapter 2 before 1... I'm never doing another 15minutes round if I can't post the stories then and there.


End file.
